Most Important
by staceycj
Summary: Coda to 9X13. Not Wincest.


Sam hardly saw his brother after that last conversation in the kitchen, where he'd admitted he could live without Dean, admitted that he would simply let his brother die. Dean was around, Sam could feel his presence in the bunker, saw the remnants of his existence; all of the dishes washed, all of the clothes washed, dried and returned to his bedroom, saw the book on the table that Dean had apparently read while he fell asleep, sitting up, fully dressed, beard at two days growth. But all of the life that filled Dean up, the life that made people want to trust him, made people talk to him, made people laugh at him when he wasn't trying to be funny, was gone. There was nothing in him. It was like all of the air had been taken out of him, like he was a deflated balloon, so damaged that it couldn't be refilled. Even when he spoke, his voice was softer, more monotone, less vibrant, less...Dean.

Sam went down to the kitchen, looking for supper, and found what he usually found, something on the stove, and Dean sitting at the kitchen table, lap top open, a full plate sitting by his elbow untouched. Sam grabbed a plate and noted that once again the foods waiting for him were his favorites. He shook his head and sat down at the table in front of his brother.

"You don't like chicken."

"I'll eat it." Dean said.

"Making my favorite foods doesn't fix anything." 

"Nope. But it earns my keep for the day." Dean said and scrolled through the page on the computer screen.

Sam rolled his eyes. "That's ridiculous Dean."

Dean chuffed, took a drink of coffee, and continued to read. Sam sighed, finished the meal and put the dishes in the sink. He was going to let the silence lie, he was going to just go about his business, but Dean's pouting had to stop. He needed to grow up, and act like a grown man.

"You need to get off the pity pot Dean." Sam said from the doorway. Green eyes turned to him, and they weren't dull and lifeless like the rest of Dean, they sparkled with sadness. Sam had to force himself not to look away.

"I'm not on the pity pot. I'm just trying to keep you from finding the first opportunity to feed me to some monster so you can be free of me."

"That is bull shit Dean. Come on. Quit being a drama queen."

"Why is it bull shit? You keep the people you love tight to you, and you don't let them get hurt. But my God…" Dean looked away, his chin quavered; he was fighting the tears that were so close to the surface that they filled his eyes. He refused to blink; he refused to give Sam the satisfaction of seeing him cry. "You don't want me close. You don't care if I get hurt." Sam started to object, but Dean cut him off. "Wait, excuse me, you care if I get hurt, but in that way you care when you save some random person from a monster attack."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, you are being overly sensitive."

Dean blinked. The tears that had filled his eyes rolled down his cheeks, and when the blink was over, those sad eyes had turned fiery. "I'm too sensitive, I'm not sensitive enough, I'm afraid to be alone, I'm a killer, I'm not good enough, you've been looking up to me since you were five, you fought for a year for me not to die and go to hell, now you don't care if I live or die!" Dean's voice rose with each additional incident. "Pick. One." Dean said lethally. He held Sam's gaze until Sam couldn't hold it anymore. Sam broke the stare first. Dean turned and headed back to the table.

"Things have changed a lot since I've said those words to you Dean."

"Don't I know it." He said and turned his back on Sam. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed, and with that sigh, his whole body deflated again, and sagged, making him appear smaller, rounding his shoulders, and making him look nothing like the skilled hunter, the legendary Dean Winchester. "I've screwed up." Dean said. "I get that. I get that more than you will EVER understand." Dean gave a sad little laugh. "I've let every single person I love down." He put his hands on his hips and he looked down at his shoes. Sam wished he would turn around so he could see his brother's face.

"And that's the truth Sam. I don't want to be alone. You are right, but you are the last person in the world who I thought loved me. I say 'you're my brother' not because it is a cure all, but because I have a difficult time saying that I love you."

Sam didn't quite know what to do with this profession of brotherly affection, didn't understand what to do with it when his brother said it, Dean never admitted that he loved anyone.

"That's why I can't let you die. You are important to me. Always have been, and always will be." There was a sniff, and he turned around and sat back down in front of the computer. "But I understand now, I'm stupid, but I'm not as stupid as you think…I get it, you don't love me back. I've loved and taken care of you my whole life, not because it was an obligation, but because you are my brother, because I love you, because you are my family, because I like you as a person, because I respect you, because I like your company, because…" he paused looking for the words and finally said, "it is who I am." Dean licked his lips, took a drink of coffee, cleared his throat and went back to reading the computer.

"I think I've got some information on Gadreel." He said offhandedly, as if he hadn't just revealed his heart, as if he hadn't cut away layers and layers of protection, exposed his vulnerability, and revealed his hurt. Sam took a step forward.

"I didn't know…"

"What? That I'd been reading and looking for Gadreel? It's my fault all of this happened. Of course I'm going to go after him. He killed Kevin, I'm going to take him down." He cleared his throat again and turned the computer to face his brother. And just like that, like every conversation they had ever had, it wasn't finished, there wasn't a satisfying ending. One of them was able to get their thoughts across, their feelings, and the other was left reeling. Sam sat down slowly, took the proffered computer before him and looked at the screen.

He licked his lips, tried to read but the words didn't process, if this was how Dean felt every time Sam professed his feelings, and his thoughts, no wonder Dean drank. Next time he was mad or felt the need to "be honest" maybe he'd do it differently, maybe he'd take his brother's feelings into consideration. Because, right now, his heart hurt, his mind was buzzing, and he didn't know how to sort through it all.

"Just give me a summary." Sam said once he realized he couldn't focus. Dean nodded and ran down what he knew. But the information Dean proffered on the angel of the moment wasn't what Sam heard, Sam had heard his brother, he heard the words "brother" and "family" and finally understood what it meant to Dean. It wasn't just a hunting bond, it wasn't just coming from the same mother and father, it was loyalty, it was love, it was friendship. And Sam realized he had taken all of that away from his brother with one "honest" statement. Maybe there was more of that heartless angel and that soulless monster left in him than he knew, maybe it was Sam who was different, who had changed, and not for the better. Maybe he needed to listen and try to repair the one relationship that was most important. Maybe he needed to try to get back to who he was…the man that Dean was always trying to protect and save, maybe he needed to get back to being Sammy.


End file.
